While celebrating the World Environment Day, we must think of the olden days when paper was not much used.

One medium of writing was a slate on which a thin chalk, known as slaiti, was used. Another near-compulsory surface to write on was a wooden board made from a mango-tree trunk, called phatti or takhti. After sifting through several, the straightest and thickest one was purchased for about ten annas. The white of an organic egg was applied to it and allowed to soak and dry. The next day, special clay, called gaachni, was applied to it. After drawing straight lines with a pencil, it was ready to be used as handheld board on both the sides.

After I joined the Department of Fine Arts at the University of the Punjab, in 1963, for my BFA, our head, Anna Molka Ahmad, who was of Polish and Russian parentage, employed Master Sohail from Muslim Model School to teach us the basics of Urdu calligraphy (which is part of the Islamic visual arts history). Students from other disciplines looked at us as to why we needed to carry the takhti with nastaliq scribbled on it.

The most testing phase was to select the right reed to make a pen, or qalam. A sharp tip was cut obliquely by holding with your left hand over a wooden surface by striking it with the sharp blade. The oblique edge is called qat, around which all measures or cannons of the calligraphic letters are based. The hollow of the reed would hold some ink.

The ink itself was made of inner peels of almonds, burnt and mixed with some acacia Arabica gum. The inkpot was made of terracotta, a small vase with a neck designed to prevent the liquid from spilling. A small piece of cotton was placed in it so as to allow only a limited dip. The dry ink, available in paper pouches, was placed in the inkpot a day prior, along with the cloth piece, and allowed to dissolve in the water.

For the first few days, sometimes the undissolved ink would clog or the cotton threads would hinder smooth writing.

The brand new takhti, too, would not produce ideal writing. The qalam sometimes would get entangled in microscopic cracks and ridges. The ovals of the script or the curves which are the hallmark of the Urdu script would get deformed.

After each use, the wooden board was washed in flowing water and gently rubbed to remove all the previous ink and clay. In other words, it was reusable and, therefore, environment-friendly as it did not involve cutting of trees.

I may mention here that early paper from China was made from rice husk, while in the later centuries, in the West, it was made from forestry learnt from the wasps and bees. The older the wooden board, the better it was for smooth calligraphic practice. Its handle was also useful for practicing fencing while returning from the school. If broken, the board would be put together with a strip of tin by the carpenter.

Though, of late, good handwriting is becoming a rarity, an application neatly calligraphed has more chances of getting accepted. So is the case with examination papers. Those who were trained by likes of Master Sohail made better impression.

By the middle or the eighth class, pencil was allowed to be used on exercise copies. Expensive lead pencils (of Kohinoor or Venus from England) were used by children from affluent families. Flying Fish was locally produced. Pencil sharpeners had not been introduced back then. It was quite an art to sharpen a pencil with a razor or a knife.

All government stationery was marked by an arrow and disallowed by the teachers. Later, nib holders and inkpots became the standard mediums. For English script, a G nib was used in the holder. A Relief nib was used for numerals. A Z nib was used for writing in Urdu. There was another one, an I nib, which was more flexible and thin. (Note: I have a vast collection of these nibs and would be more than willing to share with the enthusiasts.)

The inks available were black, blue-black, green and red. The tablets could be dissolved in water in an inkpot.

The invention of fountain pen must have been preceded by long years of research into the behaviour of liquids that maintain their level. The nibs and the qalam could not hold enough ink. Some type of nibs had an additional ‘tongue’ attached to it to hold a drop or two of the ink. Dipping the nib holder into the inkpot frequently was an irritant.

With the emergence of fountain pens, display of several of these on the front pockets of coats became a status symbol. But the days of calligraphy were over as the flexibility of the nibs was not available in the pens. Some of the old brands have still retained their curvilinear logos, originally written with G nibs. Parker was mostly used followed by Rajah while Schaeffer was more expensive. These were iridium-tipped and some claimed that nibs were made of gold. Ink could be filled in the rubber tube in its body that was a ‘fountain’; hence the name.

Several inks were available at the time, more popular being the Quink brand, which also came in an elongated bottle that lay flat on the writing table enabling the filling without spilling.

Blotting paper was another item for the office table. A rough thick paper inserted into a curved dispenser was used to absorb any surplus ink on the written page. It was specially used by office assistants as they got the official papers signed by the bosses.

Soon, many locally made inks were introduced. A local pen named Azad cost ten annas, and was popular among the less privileged. The expensive pens were repaired at reputed shops only, which were located in Anarkali, the most famous being the Life Pen Company. The tip of the nib often broke or twisted if it was dropped, and required replacement. Sometimes the rubber tube got ruptured or punctured, soiling the front pocket of the coat. Sometimes the filling mechanism would malfunction, and require the attention of a pen repair specialist.

Being pricy items, pens often got stolen. For instance, Parker. No one liked to lend them, not even briefly. Some people would lend it but keep its lid or cap, so that the borrower would have to return it anyway.

School children were not allowed to use Parker, as it was thought to be ‘bad’ for handwriting. The advent of ballpoint pens which did not require refilling was not given recognition by the banks that were not sure of its permanency. Soon, even the ‘markers’ in coloured inks were marketed and became a popular medium of writing.

With the introduction of various fonts, in different sizes, handwriting and its various tools are fast becoming obsolete. Indeed, our children already find it difficult to wield a pen. Yet, I am hopeful that it will survive, as an art form at least. It is increasingly being used by visual artists.

(This dispatch is dedicated to my calligraphy teacher, Master Suhail)

The writer is a painter, a founding member of Lahore Conservation Society and Punjab Artists Association, and a former director of NCA Art Gallery. He can be reached at ajazart@brain.net.pk